One false step and she's reeling.
A gun to her head, a short hostage negotiation, a sniper's shot to his skull, and he crumples next to her; the force of his muscles still tense as his grip takes her tumbling with him. It's deja vu, only this time, Elliot's not there. Hell, she shouldn't have been there. She's in charge, for Christ's sake; she has no business taking the lead on these situations anymore. However, they needed an expert crisis negotiator, and she could never say no, always blazing into paths that seemed to be paved just for her.
She hits the ground hard, and she's falling into the abyss of her nightmares. A different situation, hell, at this point, a routine situation, and yet PTSD is unrelenting in many ways. A shadow, always lurking, waiting for the clouds to overcast her soul with the ghosts of the past. She blinks and transports to eight years earlier: the smells, the sounds, the horror, the fear.
Fin knows. He knows before she does; her partner, her friend, her ally on this years-long fight against the darkness. He races to her side, pseudo-Elliot, armed with phrases, breathing techniques, and focus strategies that he's learned through PTSD training and directly from Liv. She's his captain now, and he protects her even more fiercely. He won't let her sink back into the hollow echoes of her mind. He forces her to look into his eyes and skillfully recites the mantras to bring Liv out of her trance.
Elliot learns of the news too late and arrives during the aftermath. He hesitantly approaches, scanning the crowd, worried, not knowing his place. Awkwardly contemplates if he has any right to be here in the first place, but he couldn't stay away from his Liv. He desperately searches to make sure she is okay, just like the old times that he has no right to reminisce. Nostalgia is a bitch, but fear is the devil.
One look at Fin, and he freezes as he follows his eyes to Olivia. Only, it's not Olivia, not like this. He's a solitary figure among the droves, and his world narrows to her crouching, clutching, clawing figure. What is happening? He sees her, shaking, a caged animal, hot tears flooding her cheeks, chest heaving with sparse, rushed breaths. He takes this in from the distance he deserves, watches Fin orchestrate his private intervention. Fin, who over the past decade has replaced him as the single most important person in her life. Envy floods his veins, another emotion he has no right to feel.
An Intervention.
Elliot, you have PTSD.
Liv has PTSD.
He sucks in his breath at this haunting realization as he watches her struggle, balk, flounder, and finally focus. He captures the moment when she looks into Fin's warm eyes and finds safety, grounding herself back to the present. Fin pulls her into a friendly embrace, and Liv buries her face into his shoulder, closes her eyes, turns slightly, and opens them again.
Their eyes lock.
He feels guilt, relief, warmth, and dread envelop his soul. Her haunted eyes tell a lifetime of stories as she stares at him and through him. She blinks again, hard, and Elliot can't tell if she's grateful he's there or willing away his existence. But she doesn't turn away, and Fin follows her gaze to see what has her frozen in place in his arms. When Elliot's eyes meet his, Fin immediately gestures for Elliot to come closer, to take his place. As he approaches, he's grateful, confused, petrified. He sits on the ground as Fin gently nudges Olivia into the arms of her partner. Liv doesn't fight it, lets him envelop her, protect her, love her. The answers will come later, but for now, he feels her relax in his arms. That's all that matters.